


If You Love Me

by Foophile



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Angst, Community: rounds_of_kink, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-01
Updated: 2008-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:49:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foophile/pseuds/Foophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Harder,” Michael moans as he tips his head back into damp pillowcases.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Love Me

Michael’s loose limbed from his head to his feet. Sweat drips lazily down his neck and pools in the hollow between his collarbones until a jarring thrust disrupts the liquid, spilling it down his chest. Lincoln’s tongue is waiting to lick up the salty trails and leave pink bites behind that will later purple into the welcome bruises that already dot all the way down his chest and blotch the sensitive skin of his thighs.

“Harder,” Michael moans as he tips his head back into damp pillowcases. His fingers clench and release in time, sliding across body warmed sheets, trailing over the cold wood of his headboard, digging into the slick surface of Lincoln’s hot flesh. His eyes open wide at Lincoln’s renewed efforts.

Lincoln stares down at him and tightens his grip on Michael’s thighs, pushing long legs further up and apart for easier access. His knees slip on the denim of his jeans and he struggles hopelessly with the puddle of clothing still on the bed. Michael’s belt buckle is under his right ankle; his leather jacket is shoved under the pillow his little brother is writhing upon.

Michael still has one arm of his school shirt tangled around a wrist and the thought, the look of that starched shirt growing soggy and translucent with their sweat drives Lincoln deeper, harder into the choking heat of his brother’s ass.

The slap-slap rhythm of their fucking is the only sound in the dim bedroom other than their panting and Michael can hear the exact moment that Lincoln feels his ass clenching. Lincoln screws his eyes closed, visibly has to pull himself from the brink, which is the last thing Michael wants. He wraps the shirted arm around his brother’s muscled back and pulls him in tighter – Lincoln slips that inch deeper and Michael feels truly split apart, open wide like the perfect nesting place. Lincoln curls around him, settling Michael’s legs on his shoulders and pressing him down into the bed with just enough force enflame Michael beyond thought.

Lincoln’s lips just barely brush his little brother’s chin when he bends down but he sucks on any skin he can. When Lincoln lets go, finally lets himself rut into that perfect hot cavern that feels like home and sin at the same time, he can actually feel something in his chest release. He imagines that the something is swallowed up in the cleansing swell of his brother – that raging furnace of lust and love and everything else that constitutes the best of Lincoln.

He stretches up to latch onto Michael’s mouth, biting and sucking the whimpers wrung from Michael as he pounds the last of himself into his brother’s sweet body. There’s a sharp bite to the thin skin behind his knee and the tiny pain shoves him into blinding ecstasy. He fists Michael’s leaking cock as an afterthought and hopes through the eternity of a second that his little brother is close.

Michael comes just as Lincoln pries his eyes open and he watches every long muscle pull in sharp relief. Mouth open in a silent scream, Michael’s lips are red and moist from their kisses, his entire body slick with their sweat and the gathering spurts of his milky come. He rides the blaze like a bronco, his ass clenching Lincoln’s tender cock and driving Lincoln to thrust once more so hard that the bed smacks against the bedroom wall. He shakes until he no longer can and his body goes lax.

Michael sucks in a sharp breath when Lincoln pulls away. His hole is aching pleasantly and his whole body is tingling with cooling sweat and settling blood. Feeling so good, Michael frowns and blinks up at Lincoln’s pained hiss, alarmed when the older man touches his leg gingerly and reveals a blood smeared hand.

“What-,” Michael barely finishes the word before Lincoln pulls the culprit out from between his knee. The letter, formerly housed in the pocket of Lincoln’s jeans, is stained in the corner from his brother’s blood and soggy at the opposing end from sweat. Michael glances between his brother and the positive results of Lisa’s pregnancy test. He collapses back onto the bed and the sheets feel like ice against his skin. "I'd forgotten."

“Michael.” Lincoln can feel his brother shut down and whatever it was Michael soothed only minutes before slaps back onto his shoulders with the crushing weight of responsibility.

“Don’t,” Michael mumbles. “Let’s just…this is the last time.” He clears his throat and glares up at the blank white ceiling. “It has to be.”

“No, it doesn’t. That’s what I’ve been trying to say.” Lincoln lets the note of pleading bleed through. He runs his hand over Michael’s thigh, squeezes over a perfect imprint of his fingers just to remind his brother of what he seems to have so easily forgotten. When Michael flinches at the touch Lincoln lets go feeling sick to his stomach.

“It doesn’t matter what you say, Linc.” Michael’s already pulling away, sliding back from Lincoln and closer to the edge of the bed. He bends to grab his pants from the floor and Lincoln can see where they began the night in the mottled skin at base of his little brother’s spine. He'd sucked the skin there for long minutes before parting the milky globes of Michael’s ass and opening him with his tongue. Then, Michael had moaned long into the bed sheets and pressed back for more of his mouth.

Lincoln’s reached out to touch again before his mind catches up to his hand. This time instead of leaning into the pressure Michael stands and steps away. He doesn’t say a word, just looks mournfully back at Lincoln before walking into the bathroom, the evidence of their coupling trailing messily down the back of his thigh.

Lincoln crumples the paper in his come covered fist as the hiss of the shower begins.

END  



End file.
